


Two For One

by Anonymous



Category: Set the Thames on Fire (2015), The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 15:59:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12324231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Howard goes to see a prostitute named Dickie, for reasons he'd rather not analyse.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> A warning for anyone about to read: there's a little bit of blood in this fic, but not much (think overzealous hickeys). There's also a very quick (I'm talking a line and a half) discussion of watersports, but nothing actually in the fic.

The door beside Howard slammed open and a small, terrified-looking man scurried out, pulling his coat on in a rush and refusing to look back. Perhaps coming here hadn’t been the best of ideas, but after Leroy showed him that photo, he couldn’t _not_. It all just seemed so perfect at the time. But now, with the figure stepping boldly out from the room into the hallway illuminated in pinks and blues, Howard was unsure if he could go through with it.

 

“Rita! Where’s my next _fucking_ appointment?” the man shrieked, hopping forward on one foot and slamming his other down. Howard squeaked, and the man swung round, blue bullet eyes boring into him from underneath stick-thin brows. He wore pearls around his neck, blonde hair in bunches, a thin white nightie, and boots just like-

 

“There you are,” he said, stalking over and heaving Howard from his seat by the elbow. He shoved Howard bodily towards the open door, kicking him in the arse to push him through into the room. “Get in there.”

 

This _definitely_ wasn’t a good idea. 

 

The man bolted the door in place, leaning against it with a predatory gaze and a lion’s grin. 

 

“Little Dickie’s almost ready for ya, you prick,” he crooned, moving gracefully behind Howard and pulling him to a plastic chair, pushing him down to sit. “I’ve just gotta go wash me hands. Last one was rotten inside and out.” 

 

Howard tensed from the voice in his ear.

 

“No need to be scared, pet,” Dickie said, stroking Howard’s hair and pulling his coat down his back. “Dickie’s gonna take good care of ya.”

 

Dickie shoved himself up off the floor and disappeared around the corner, stripping off his gloves as he went. Howard cleared his throat, eyes scanning the room as he removed his burnt nutmeg coat and alighting on the little table in the corner, covered in lines of white powder and brightly coloured pills. He quickly swivelled back around, fixing his gaze on the painted wall. This was not the sort of place a respectable man like himself should be. And yet…

 

Here he was. Sitting in the drug den of a low budget prostitute who would, quote, “do anything for a tenner”, all because Leroy (the dick) had shown him a photograph of the man on his new smart phone. Really, he’d been showing Vince and Howard just happened to have been standing between them in the bar, but that was beside the point. 

 

“Oi, Vince, check this out,” Leroy had said, voice slurring over the sixth cocktail of the night. “Jaques le Cube sent me this pic of a prozzie he met at a party. Looks just like you!” 

 

“Fuck off, Leroy,” Vince had replied, shoving the phone back under Howard’s nose. “I’m a sophisticated high society girlboy. I’d never go, ugh, _blonde_.”

 

And that had been that. Vince wandered off to dance, and Howard had waited another couple of drinks to weasel Dickie’s details out of Leroy. Just to ensure he wouldn’t remember it when they woke up the next morning. It had taken a full week and a half for Howard to work up the courage to call the number Leroy wrote sloppily on a napkin. But he figured enough was enough and being a virgin at thirty two was just too embarrassing. 

 

He promised himself not to analyse why it took a prostitute with a face the dead spit of his best mate to finally push him to do it, though.

 

“Make yourself indecent,” Dickie’s grating voice rang out from around the corner as the sound of running water shut off. “’m comin back in.”

Howard rushed to start unbuttoning his shirt, but Dickie was standing in front of him all too quickly, hard white codpiece level with Howard’s nose. Howard looked up, hands shaking and fumbling with the buttons, and Dickie looked down at him with hunger and a slight amount of confusion.

 

“You ain’t been to a prozzie before, have ya, pet?”

 

“N-No, sir,” Howard responded, giving up on his shirt and folding his hands in his lap. Dickie squatted down in front of him, thighs bulging out through his fishnets. He put his re-gloved hands on Howard’s knees. 

 

“You ever fucked before? Ever _been_ fucked?”

 

Howard shook his head nervously. “I-I’ve never… I haven’t…” 

 

“Oi,” Dickie said, standing up and rounding Howard, placing his hands on his shoulders. “Relax, sweetheart. Dickie won’t let anything bad happen to you.” He leaned forward, hooking his chin over Howard’s shoulder and running a hand over the muted Hawaiian print of his shirt. “You’re Dickie’s sweet, you are.” 

 

It was strange - everything about Dickie was terrifying. From the way he moved to the way he spoke, every square inch of him oozed danger, violence coiled tight in his every muscle. But his face made Howard weak for different reasons, made all of that fear something exhilarating instead of off-putting. Even twisted into a snarl (as that was the only expression Dickie seemed able to achieve), any face with that close a resemblance to Vince’s made him calm. 

 

“What is it you want, pet?” 

 

“I want…” Howard paused, unsure. He hadn’t really thought he would be able to get to this point, so he hadn’t even considered what he’d ask for. “I want to fuck you, I guess?”

 

“That’s disgusting,” Dickie drawled, hand smoothing around to Howard’s neck. “It’s sick that, what you want to do to me. Mix up my rotten insides, tear them apart with your fucking cock. You make me want to vomit.” He licked a stripe up Howard’s cheek. 

 

“Come on, then,” he said, spinning round to Howard’s front again. “Get your little prick out. Show old Dickie what’s going inside him.”

 

Howard scrambled to follow Dickie’s instructions, popping the button and pulling down the zipper, but hesitating there. Could he do this? Lose his virginity to someone he’s paying? It’s not like it was going to happen otherwise, but could he do it like this? Someone who looked so nearly right, someone so almost perfect? 

 

Dickie shoved a hand in his hair and pulled his head back. 

 

“I said, show me your cock.”

 

That was that, then. Howard pulled out his cock, already hard and leaking from the rough treatment. Turned out he liked being handled a bit gruff, having his curls yanked and such a pretty man treat him like dirt. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He’d stepped over that line, and now he was in it for the long haul.

 

“Fuck, yes,” Dickie sighed, rubbing his hand against the hard codpiece covering his own crotch. He rocked his hips in circles, the back of his hand almost brushing against Howard’s chin as he held his head back.

 

“Dickie,” Howard whispered hoarsely against the strain. He licked at his lips, pushing his hand down against his cock.

 

“You wanna suck me, don’t you, you pervert? You want me to hold your head back and fuck your throat, don’t you? You want Little Dickie’s cock in your face,” Dickie crooned, knocking on his codpiece. “Say it.”

 

“I want you in my mouth,” Howard replied, trying to angle his head down a bit. 

 

Dickie stepped forward so his legs framed Howard’s left thigh, reaching a hand down to undo the clasp of his harness. The codpiece fell away, thunking against Dickie’s leg, revealing a smallish bulge hidden by blue pants. Dickie shoved his crotch into Howard’s face. 

 

“You’re fucking disgusting,” Dickie whispered, shoving down his underwear and stockings. His cock bounced free, small but thick, slapping Howard in the cheek. He quickly wrapped it in a condom. “Take it.” 

 

Howard opened his mouth, letting Dickie manoeuvre his head by his hair, and closed his eyes as he felt the first touch of Dickie’s cock to his tongue. All he could taste was the latex of the condom, but it was so heavy and so warm Howard felt he might faint. He groaned, opening his mouth wider as Dickie pulled at his chin, slowly pushing forward.

 

“Yeah, that’s right, fucking take it,” Dickie said, voice getting even more gruff. “You want Dickie’s piss all down your throat, don’t you?”

 

Howard tried to shake his head, mumbled the word ‘no’ as best he could.

 

“Then fucking act like it!” Dickie growled, pushing Howard’s head further onto his cock. “Suck, you prick!”

 

So Howard did. He sucked and slobbered at the cock in his mouth, completely inept but extremely enthusiastic. Saliva dribbled down his chin and over Dickie’s hand, got pushed into his moustache by Dickie’s fucking hips. He desperately tried to keep his teeth out of the equation, but when he accidentally bit down a little bit Dickie just jerked, gasped, and tugged on his hair again, so Howard repeated it. 

 

“Fuck, stop,” Dickie said, tearing Howard away by the hair. He sat down, straddling Howard and bringing their cocks into contact. Howard shivered violently, hips bucking up and nearly dislodging Dickie. “Oi! Sit still you piece of shit,” Dickie shouted, smacking Howard in the head. 

 

“Sorry,” Howard said, gripping the bottom of the chair tightly and wandering in the back of his head how it was managing to take both their weight. “I don’t… I’ve never had to stop myself before.” 

 

“You come inside me and I’ll rip your teeth out,” Dickie said, burying his face in Howard’s neck and immediately biting down _hard_. Blood welled up underneath his skin, bursting forth into Dickie’s mouth and coating his tongue with metallic tastes. Dickie groaned as Howard moaned, grinding his hips down against Howard’s. 

 

“I won’t last long,” Howard whispered, face blazing with shame.

 

“I won’t either,” Dickie said, leaning back and tearing the condom off his cock, rolling a second down on Howard’s, making him squeal and tense up with the effort not to jerk up into his hand. “You’re fucking _hot_ , pet.”

 

“Howard,” he said, breathless. “My name is Howard.”

 

“ _Fuck_ , that’s hot,” Dickie groaned, standing up and hovering over Howard’s cock. “Better be ready.”

 

With that, Dickie bore down, and Howard’s cock was shoved deep inside the man in one fell swoop, Dickie’s overused and sore arse clenching pleasantly around him not without conscious effort on his part. 

 

“Shit,” Howard swore.

 

“Yeah, Howard, yeah,” Dickie replied, beginning to rock his hips quickly and hard. “Fucking talk, tell me what you want to do to me.”

 

“I-I want to fuck you.”

 

“More, you prick, harder, more disgusting!”

 

“I want to come inside you.”

 

“More!”

 

“I want to cover you in my come, I want it to mix with yours, I want to paint you white with it, I want to fuck you so hard and deep you feel it in your throat, I want you to scream my name every time you come from now on,” Howard panted, hips fucking up into Dickie with abandon. 

 

“Fuck, yeaaaahhhh,” Dickie sighed. Howard reached up in a spur of the moment instinct and wound his fingers into Dickie’s hair, pulling hard and leaning forward to bite and suck at his neck. “Yes! Yes!”

 

“I want you to come, Dickie,” Howard moaned against his neck. So Dickie did.

 

With Dickie’s come drying on Howard’s shirt and his own night dress, Howard continued to fuck him, his own control slipping quickly. His hips stuttered, his grip tightened in Dickie’s hair, he breathed heavier and louder against his neck. Finally, after what seemed like an impossibly long time for him to have lasted, Howard came with a whispered name:

 

“Vince.”

 

Dickie jerked in Howard’s grasp at that, stiffening, and not in the good way. He crawled off Howard and grabbed his coat from the floor, throwing it into his face.

 

“Out! Get out! You revolting piece of fucking shit, get out of my den!” 

 

He hauled Howard up from the chair and, without even giving him time to tuck himself back into his trousers, shoved him out the door.

 

“Fuck off!”


	2. Chapter Two

Howard arrived home after a very awkward cab ride, coat wrapped tightly around himself the whole way and dick safely shoved back in his pants and trousers. He was confused as to Dickie’s response when he unceremoniously chucked him out of the den, but he just figured it was the done thing - cuddling with clients probably wasn’t high up on his list of favourite things to do, as much as Howard would have liked a little bit more time to come down from his high. Oh well. It was done now. Howard T. J. Moon was no longer a virgin and he felt… pretty ambivalent about that. On the one hand it had felt fucking amazing, but on the other, he did feel quite empty inside. There was an emotional need that hadn’t been fulfilled, except perhaps that split second at the end there, when he said…

 

No. There was no use dwelling on it now as he took the stairs up to the flat above Naboo’s shop. What’s done was done and it wasn’t as if Howard hadn’t enjoyed himself. 

 

“Alright, Howard?” Vince said as soon as Howard wandered into the living room. “Where you been all night?”

 

“Just round at Lester Corncrake’s. We were practicing for jazzercise next week.”

 

“No wonder you smell all sweaty, then,” Vince said, scrunching up his nose and grinning as Howard put the kettle on. Howard panicked a little inside at that, but thankfully Vince settled back down on the couch and returned to watching the telly in comfort.

 

Howard noticed that Vince was in his pyjamas as he sat down beside him, which was very unusual for a Saturday night. Not that Vince’s pyjamas could really be considered pyjamas - the ensemble was more just a pair of blue pants ( _don’t think about it, don’t think about it_ ) and a black vest. He was tucked up on the couch with his legs underneath him and a blanket with a big monkey skull on it over his lap, sipping on a hot chocolate. 

 

“You didn’t go out tonight?”

 

“Nah,” Vince replied. “Felt like a night in. I was hoping you’d be here, actually. We haven’t had a quiet night in a long while.”

 

Howard felt a little bad at that, but he didn’t have a whole lot of time to do so, because a massive _crash_ resounded downstairs, and the pair leaped up and raced down the steps.

 

The sight that greeted them in the Nabootique was… unexpected to say the least. On one side of the counter, the side closest to the door, stood Dickie, in all his terrifying glory. How he knew to come here, and what he was doing here in the first place, Howard didn’t know. But on the other side of the counter, hugging the alligator phone to his chest, stood a face Howard hadn’t seen since his birthday party.

 

“Howard!” Old Gregg cried, dropping the phone and launching himself over the counter into Howard’s arms. “You’ve come to save me! You’ve come to save Old Greggory!”

 

“You said I was your first, pet!” Dickie shouted, lifting the baseball bat in his hands high and spinning around, smashing the front window in. The door was already in pieces on the floor, inside the shop - clearly that was how the pair got in. “You lied, you filthy piece of shit!” 

 

“Dickie, please!” Howard said, pushing Old Gregg away from himself and approaching the furious man with caution. “I didn’t lie to you. And what does it matter if I did, anyway?”

 

“Everybody lies to Dickie! Everybody! You was supposed to be different!” Dickie stared Howard down with tears in his eyes, hands gripping the baseball bat tight. “You told me your _name_!”

 

“Dickie, you were my first,” Howard said, quietly, desperately trying to keep this conversation a little more private than it could conceivably be. “I didn’t lie to you.”

 

“ _He_ said he’d had you!” 

 

The bat was pointing directly at Gregg now, who looked not only confused but unexpectedly terrified of the entire situation. Vince was standing behind him, mouth agape, eyes flicking between Howard and Dickie and Gregg and back again.

 

Howard ran a hand over his face and turned to Dickie. “Gregg hasn’t had anything. He kidnapped me once, and tried to trick me into sleeping with him another time, but we’ve not done more than hold hands. Which, I might add, I didn’t even want to do, no, sir.” 

 

“Everybody lies to Dickie.”

 

“ _I_ didn’t,” Howard said, voice sure and calm. 

 

“Did. You fucked me and you said a different name.”

 

“I- That- That’s not a lie.”

 

“Is. You lied about who you was fucking.”

 

“I didn’t mean to,” Howard whispered, reaching out and taking the bat from Dickie’s hands.

 

“You _do_ love me, Howard!” Gregg shouted as Howard threw the bat into the corner of the room. “You called Gregg’s name at the moment of climax! You do love Greggory!”

 

“He didn’t say your name, you rotting mound of fish flesh!” Dickie shouted, making as though he was going to rip Gregg apart, held in place only by Howard’s arm across his chest. Gregg backed up into Vince and ducked behind him, using him as a human shield, drawing Dickie’s attention to the fourth person in the room for the first time. “You. What’s your name, prick?”

 

“Uh,” Vince said, looking lost, confused, and not just a little bit scared. Howard shook his head vigorously at him. “Vince?” 

 

Howard winced, tightening his arm around Dickie in anticipation of the inevitable explosion. Dickie went still, tensed, became like a statue as all that coiled violence beneath his skin rose up to the surface and began to bubble over.

 

“Dickie, please, no,” Howard whispered, looking imploringly into a face that looked so much like the man he loved’s, begging him not to lose it now, here. 

 

“You,” Dickie said, voice unexpectedly calm, like the eye of a storm. “You took my pet from me. You took Dickie’s little sweet.” He angled his head unnaturally to the side. “Now Uncle Dickie’s gonna take something from you.”

 

Dickie snarled, coked-up body tearing at the air as he struggled to get out of Howard’s grip, hands grasping at nothing as Vince stepped backwards. Gregg grabbed a hold of Vince’s upper arms, eliciting a surprised squeak from him, and began to push him forward towards the screaming Dickie. 

 

“Nobody takes Howard away from Greggory,” Gregg whispered in Vince’s ear. “The pretty one will take care of you, then Howard will run away with Gregg, like he promised, like we planned. Big warm husband Howard is gonna hold me and he ain’t gonna be thinking about you while he does it.”

 

“Howard! Howard, please, they’re going to kill me!” 

 

“Alright, enough!” Howard bellowed, dark Northern voice booming around the little shop. Dickie stopped squirming, going limp in his arms as Old Gregg dropped Vince like he was an ember, backing up against the wall again. “Nobody is hurting Vince! You two need to leave. Now.”

 

Dickie looked up at Howard with imploring eyes hidden behind layers of dark makeup. Eyes that looked for all the world like Vince’s twin’s, bright and blue and, for lack of a better word, piercing. Dickie heaved with his breath, and Howard could feel his body move against him and it reminded him of more inappropriate times. Dickie reached out and ran a hand down Howard’s face, softly, almost adoringly.

 

“Mummy loves you, Howard,” he whispered. “Don’t kick old Dickie out into the cold night.”

 

“I’m sorry, Dickie,” Howard said, and he really was. “I didn’t mean to give you any wrong ideas. I came to you because you had what I needed. Now, I don’t need it any more. Please,” he said, pulling his head away from Dickie’s hand. “Please leave.”

 

Dickie’s hand curled into a fist in the air, but he just brought it down and tapped it against Howard’s chest. He seemed to be considering, thinking very hard about it, which didn’t seem to be something he did too often. He squeezed his face up almost cartoonishly, wide eyes becoming slits under those thin brows. Then he relaxed.

 

“Okay,” he said. “But Dickie’s not giving up. You’ve had a taste, and you’ll want more.

 

“I’ll see you in my den,” he whispered, standing up on the tips of his toes to croon in Howard’s ear. He gave the lobe a quick nip, then spun around and headed for the broken door. “Oi! Fish man!” he shouted, not looking back. “You’re with me!” 

 

Gregg shuffled on the spot, looking torn between following a direct order as every bone in his body screamed at him to do, and staying to spend more time with his precious Howard. 

 

“Go with him, Gregg,” Howard said, voice low and tired. Gregg scrambled to obey, tripping over himself as he bolted for the door and followed Dickie out into the night.


	3. Chapter Three

Howard and Vince, having swept up the shards of glass covering the shop and put up large pieces of balsa wood to prevent thieves, sat on the couch in their pyjamas, watching a documentary on glam rock in the eighties (a compromise between them; documentary for Howard, glam for Vince). They hadn’t spoken a word to each other about what had happened, and Vince had started to nod off, so Howard was beginning to suspect that perhaps they wouldn’t have to.

 

Boy, was he wrong.

 

“So,” Vince said, eyes closed and face relaxed. “You went to a prozzie?” 

 

Howard tensed, hands balling into fists on his knees.

 

“’S alright, Howard,” Vince said around a yawn. “I ain’t mad or nothing. Even tho he was the dead spit of me.”

 

“Well, thank you for that, sir,” Howard said gruffly, a little offended at the implication that he needed Vince’s approval for this. 

 

“I just mean, it’s kind of unexpected that you’d go to a prozzie at all, let alone one so fuckin’ terrifying. What made you wanna go?”

 

“Nothing. I was just… sick of being a virgin.”

 

“So you went to a bloke who you knew looked like me?”

 

“No, I went to the only prostitute I knew of.”

 

“Nah,” Vince said, sitting up and turning so he was facing Howard, both legs bent at the knee and feet on the couch, back against the arm rest. “‘Cause if you just wanted to get rid of your virginity, you’d have called Eleanor. Or Gregg, even. But you went for someone who looked like me.”

 

“I think you’re reading too much into it, yes, sir,” Howard mumbled, shying away from Vince’s prying face. “And besides, since when have you been all Nancy Drew, huh?”

 

“Since sex and you and you having sex was involved,” Vince replied, unashamed. 

 

“Why’s it so interesting to you?”

 

“It’s like when pandas mate,” Vince said, giggling. “Only ever happens once in a blue moon.”

 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Howard said, getting up. “If you’re just gonna insult me all night I’m going to bed.” He stomped off through the flat to their shared room, and crawled into his bed on the right side. 

 

His head barely hit the pillow before he felt something climbing into the bed with him. He panicked, thinking one or both of the terrifying creatures in love with him had come back, but Vince’s face, framed with his midnight black hair, appeared in front of him, grinning as he wrapped himself around Howard. 

 

“Aw, come on, Howard,” he whispered, leg wrapping tight around Howard’s thighs like a koala. “I was just teasin’ you.”

 

“Don’t touch me,” Howard said, halfheartedly trying to shove Vince off.

 

“But I’ve got a theory.”

 

“Do you.”

 

“Yeah!” Vince snickered. “You wanna hear it?”

 

Howard sighed. “Fine.”

 

“I reckon you went to Dickie because he has my face. And I reckon you did that because you wanted to lose it to someone with this face. But I think you didn’t want it to be Dickie, I think you wanted it to be me. Am I close?”

 

“It doesn’t take a genius to work all that out, Vince,” Howard huffed. “Dickie _did_ all but tell you I said your name when I…”

 

“Came?”

 

“Yes, that,” Howard said, shifting onto his side in an attempt to hide his growing stiffy. 

 

“Would you do it again, Howard?” Vince asked after a moment.

 

“What, go to Dickie? Not if you paid me.”

 

“No, I mean; say my name.”

 

“Vince,” Howard started, but he cut off when Vince rolled his hips forward, a bulge much bigger than Dickie’s pressing into his lower back.

 

“Say it again, Howard,” Vince whispered in his ear. “I wanna hear you.”

 

“Vince, what are you doing?”

 

“If you want me to stop, just say so. I’ll forget all about everything tonight,” Vince said, breath hot on Howard’s ear and neck. “But I don’t want to, Howard. I wanna make _you_ forget. Forget all about Old Gregg, and about Dickie, and just remember us.” 

 

“I…” Howard mumbled. 

 

“Tell me what you want, Howard.”

 

“I want you to fuck me.”

 

“Holy shit!” Vince’s hips stuttered forward without permission, nudging his dick against Howard’s back again. “I didn’t know you could talk like that!”

 

“You have no idea how I can talk, sir,” Howard replied. 

 

“Where did he touch you, Howard?”

 

“He didn’t, really.”

 

“Did he do this?” Vince asked, pulling Howard onto his back to straddle him, winding his hand into Howard’s hair and tugging lightly.

 

“Y-yes. But harder.”

 

“What about this?” Vince trailed his hand up over Howard’s chest until it was resting lightly on his neck.

 

“Yes.”

 

Vince frowned. “How about this?” he asked, leaning in close and sealing his mouth against Howard’s. Howard saw stars, with one hand in his hair and another on his throat, Vince’s insistent tongue pushing through his lips into his mouth. Howard could feel every ridge of Vince’s fingers against his Adam’s apple as he opened his mouth, licking into Vince’s and moaning against all that feeling. 

 

Vince pulled back. “Well?” he asked, a bit out of breath.

 

“No,” Howard croaked in reply. “He didn’t do that.”

 

“Good,” Vince said, expression softening as he leaned back down, rubbing his nose against Howard’s. “So I’m still the only person you’ve kissed?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Howard mumbled against his lips.

 

“Good. Keep it that way,” Vince said, sitting up over Howard’s belly. “I don’t want you thinking about anyone else, ever again.”

 

“Never,” Howard said, his hands coming to rest on Vince’s thighs, looking massive. “I was thinking about you the whole time with Dickie.”

 

“Don’t say his name,” Vince said angrily, tightening his knees around Howard’s waist. 

 

“He means nothing to me, Vince,” Howard whispered, sitting up to kiss him again, wrapping his arms around his middle. “I only went there because I never in a million years thought you’d let me do this.” 

 

“Been wanting you to do it for fucking _years_ , Howard,” Vince breathed into Howard’s mouth. He shifted, moving backwards, and brought his cock into contact with Howard’s, and even through their respective underwear it already felt infinitely better than anything Dickie did. “It’s a good thing Naboo and Bollo are gone for the weekend, because I need you to make me scream.”

 

“Fuck, _Vince_.”

 

“Now, I believe there was some talk of me fucking you?”

 

“I don’t know if I’m going to survive this.”

 

“It’s okay, Howard,” Vince said, framing Howard’s face with his hands. “I’m going to make sure you remember this for the rest of your life. I’m gonna make it so you can’t come if you’re not thinking about my cock in your arse.”

 

“Shit, Vince, yes.”

 

“Take off your clothes, Howard,” Vince said, swinging his leg back over so he was kneeling by Howard’s side, tearing off his black vest. Howard followed suit, losing his own vest, and kicking off his red pants. 

 

“What about yours?” Howard asked, pointing to Vince’s crotch.

 

“You do it,” Vince said, smirking. He lay down on the bed beside Howard, tilting his hips up for easy access. “Too tired.”

 

Howard chuckled, flipping over and slinging a leg over Vince’s left one, his bare cock brushing against Vince’s shin. Howard ran his fingers lightly up Vince’s legs, pushing the hair against the grain, until he hit the bottom of Vince’s blue and pink pants. He traced the bottom of the fabric, running a short fingernail underneath the elastic, stopping before he hit Vince’s balls. He smoothed his massive palms over Vince’s hips, listening to how he shifted and gasped, and curled his fingers around the waistband. And just like that, the pants were gone, and Vince’s cock - long and thick, curved and absolutely perfect - bounced back against his shaved pubic bone. 

 

“Brian Christ,” Howard breathed. Vince giggled.

 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he grinned, nodding down at Howard’s cock, mouth watering. “Think you could fuck my face with that?”

 

“Shit, what?” Howard choked.

 

“Come on, Howard. Put your big stiffy in my mouth,” Vince teased, opening his mouth wide and letting his tongue loll out. 

 

Howard let out a long suffering sigh, his sheepish smile betraying the excitement he felt. He shuffled up the bed as Vince just lay there, lips open and ready, plump tongue inviting. Howard settled over Vince’s chest, his knees just underneath Vince’s arms and his cock hanging above his face. 

 

“Please, Howard.”

 

Howard groaned, bending down and sliding the head of his cock along the length of Vince’s tongue, burying himself in the warm, wet flesh of his mouth. “Fuck,” he hissed, threading a hand into Vince’s hair and tugging him further down onto his dick. 

 

“Mmghhff,” Vince said, eyes slipping closed and hands wrapping around the back of Howard’s thighs, thumbs brushing his arse, pulling Howard further in. He slobbered and sucked, mouth making obscene noises and breath heaving through his nose. He lightly grazed the bottom of Howard’s cock with his teeth by accident, sending a jolt through him and making his hips jerk forward. He understood now why Dickie had lost it when he’d bitten down. 

 

“Ugh, Vince,” he whined, burying his other hand in Vince’s black locks. Vince responded by sucking harder, messier, and opening his eyes and staring up at Howard with a face absolutely full of adoration and hunger. “God, you look gorgeous like that.” Vince hummed, lips pulling into a smile around Howard’s cock. Howard tugged at his hair and Vince whined, pulling on Howard’s arse to try and keep him from slipping out of his mouth. “You’re gonna have to stop or I won’t be able to keep going, no, sir.”

 

Vince let Howard go with a frown, licking his lips and pouting like the petulant man-boy he was. Howard couldn’t help but lean down and kiss that sulky look off his face.

 

“You promised something else,” Howard said.

 

“What did I promise?” Vince grinned.

 

“You know what.”

 

“I want you to say it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s hot, Howard, duh.”

 

“Fine,” Howard huffed, shuffling his body back down the bed and lying down beside Vince. “You promised you’d fuck me.”

 

“Aw, Howard, that’s no fun,” Vince needled, wrapping and arm and a leg over Howard’s torso and pushing his cock against Howard’s side. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

 

Howard growled. “I want you inside me,” he said, turning and grabbing Vince’s chin and looking him directly in the eye. “I want you to fuck me so hard and so deep I feel it for weeks. I want you to come inside me and fill me up so I’m leaking. I want you to make me scream your name. I want you to fuck the memory of Dickie out of me. Is that what you want?” 

 

“Christ, yeah, Howard, let me,” Vince said, breath coming fast and hips rocking forwards and backwards. 

 

“I don’t know what we need,” Howard mumbled, pulling Vince in by the chin for another long, sensuous kiss.

 

“Mmm, I got condoms and lube in my drawers, gimme a second,” Vince replied, crawling over Howard to roll off the bed and practically run over to the set of drawers that acted as his bedside table. He rummaged about in the top drawer for a minute, Howard starting to feel a little cold and uncomfortable laid out bare on the bed alone. But Vince was back quickly, stalking over Howard on all fours and going in for a heated kiss. 

 

“Hurry up,” Howard grumbled, tipping his hips upward. 

 

“Alright, alright, keep your hair on,” Vince laughed, sitting back on his heels and popping the lid to his bottle of lube. He let some drip onto his index finger, wiggling it in front of his face with a grin. “You ready?”

 

“Vince, if you don’t hurry up, I will get out of this bed and leave you to deal with this yourself, sir.”

 

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Vince said, reaching down and stroking a soft line over Howard’s hole. “Just relax, Howard,” he added, leaning down and kissing him through the first push of his finger inside. 

 

It felt strange, but it wasn't bad. Howard wasn’t sure it was possible to get him worked open enough to take that monster hanging between Vince’s legs, but Dickie had been so wide, and surely that wasn’t just how he was naturally. But regardless, even a single finger felt incredible, because Vince was inside him, moving around, stroking and curling. 

 

“Can you handle more?”

 

“Yeah,” Howard breathed, bracing himself for the breach of the second finger. Vince pulled out, dousing both fingers in another layer of lube, and returned to Howard’s hole, stroking around it and feeling the muscles flutter. He pushed in.

 

This felt a little more tight, like there was something really wrong going on here. But that just made it so much better - the feeling of being stretched softly, the friction of Vince’s knuckles against his rim, it was dizzying. 

 

“More.”

 

They worked up to four fingers together, Vince with nearly his entire hand fucking up into Howard at this point. Howard was twisting and mewling on the bed, scrunching the sheets up into his hands as he drew his legs up to thrust back down against Vince’s hand, rocking his hips to get those fingers just a little bit deeper. He could feel something, something just _almost_ there, so close but not enough.

 

“Howard, please, are you ready? I need to be in you, Howard,” Vince panted against his neck, hips rubbing his cock against Howard’s hip. “Fuck, wanna fuck you so bad.”

 

“Now. Yes. Hurry,” Howard replied, bucking his hips. 

 

Vince wrenched his fingers out of Howard’s body, wiping them quickly on the bedsheets and grabbing his supplies. He tore open a condom packet with his teeth, shoving it in Howard’s hand. “Do the honours?”

 

Howard reached out shakily, sloppily rolling the condom on Vince’s dick and taking the lube from his hand. He couldn’t contain himself enough to let it warm up before letting it drizzle down Vince’s length, eliciting a shocked hiss, but gave him a few firm, tight strokes to apologise before pulling back. 

 

Howard reached his hands up to grab at his headboard, canting his hips towards Vince in desperation. Vince just reached out and grabbed at Howard’s thighs, pulling them apart as far as they could comfortably go, and guiding his cock to Howard’s rim. Vince pushed forward slowly, his head catching on the ring of muscle. He rolled his hips, breaking past that point of resistance, finally, _finally_ beginning to bury himself in Howard’s tight heat. 

 

“Fuck, shit,” Howard hissed, body tensing.

 

“It’s okay Howard,” Vince said, voice strained. He ran his free hand lightly down Howard’s side. “Tell me to stop if you need it.”

 

“No, no,” Howard panted. “I’m fine. Ke-keep going.”

 

So Vince did. Slowly he moved forward, inch by inch, until his pelvis came flush against Howard’s thighs.

 

“You did it, Howard,” he whispered, brushing a stray curl from Howard’s face. “I’m inside you.”

 

Howard nearly cried. It was all so much - the feeling of Vince hot and thick inside him, the closeness he felt to the other man, the soft way Vince kept petting at his hips and neck and waist. 

 

“Fuck, I love you,” Howard groaned. Vince jerked inside him, hips involuntarily fucking forward.

 

“Shit, sorry, I just,” Vince said, straightening up. He had a massive grin on his face, and his torso was shaking with repressed giggles. “Didn’t expect that.”

 

“Again?” Howard growled, face contorting with anger. “Really? I tell you I love you and you laugh at me again, you’re a real piece of work, you know that?” He made to shove Vince off him, but Vince grabbed his hands, leaning back down and driving his cock a little bit further inside him, hitting that point his fingers hadn’t been able to reach and making him swear loudly and jerk his hips up.

 

“I’m not laughing at you, Howard,” Vince said through his grin. “I’m laughing at this. At what it took to get us to finally do this. Of course I love you, too, you big galumph.” 

 

Howard only vaguely heard what Vince was saying because he was squirming underneath him, desperately trying to find that tiny bit inside him that made everything feel like his blood was on fire.Vince shifted a little, and there it was again, making Howard throw his head back and ripping a moan from his throat.

 

“Shit, Howard, you are well sexy like that.”

 

“M-Move, Vince.”

 

He did. Vince pulled nearly all the way out, the tip of his head stopped by Howard’s rim, then slammed back into him with enough force to drive the bed into the wall. Howard burst into motion, flinging his hands back up to brace himself against the headboard, wrapping his thighs tight around Vince’s back, and howling into the quiet room. Vince buried his face in Howard’s neck, arms wrapping around his body and hips fucking back and forth, in and out of Howard’s tight arse.

 

“You feel amazing, Howard,” he said, words muffled by Howard’s throat. “I want to fuck you until all you can think of is my cock. I want to bite you everywhere so everyone knows you’re mine. I want to come so hard and so deep inside you that your guts get all squished out of shape. I want to fucking _ruin_ you.”

 

Howard moaned, hands moving down to clutch at Vince’s back, short nails digging in and bringing blood to the surface. Then, Vince did something Howard never expected: he bit down on Howard’s neck and began to suck, his tongue pulsing against his skin, and Howard _screamed_.

 

Vince’s hips stuttered at the sound, his body curling, his mouth went slack against Howard’s neck as he came, a long, drawn-out and low whine tearing its way through his throat. “Howard…”

 

The feeling of Vince coming inside him, coupled with the throbbing of his neck and the fluttering of Vince’s abdominal muscles over his cock sent Howard crashing over the cliff right behind him, spurting up onto Vince’s chest and belly. Howard kicked and writhed with the feeling, so much and yet so perfect. 

 

As Vince lay on him, trying to catch his breath, Howard lifted his hands and ran his fingers softly through Vince’s hair, smoothing it away from his face.

 

“Better than the prozzie?” Vince asked.

 

Howard chuckled. “Yeah, Vince. Better than the prozzie.”


End file.
